


Get Me To The Church On Time

by PolarisNebula



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Drama & Romance, F/M, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Marriage, Romance, Team as Family, Wedding Fluff, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:34:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22577140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PolarisNebula/pseuds/PolarisNebula
Summary: Scott Tracy is waiting patiently for his bride on the morning of their wedding, livid that John has sent her and Gordon on an IR mission. Will she make it back on time? Will the wedding go ahead? Will anyone be poisoned by Grandma Tracy's cookies? Tune in to find out!
Relationships: Scott Tracy/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 11





	Get Me To The Church On Time

**Author's Note:**

> This was a plot bunny that just wouldn't go away and demanded to be written.
> 
> I don't own any of the Thunderbirds. Not beta-ed so any mistakes are my own. Warnings for language.

Kansas was dry and dusty and, not for the first time, Scott wished he was back on Tracy Island. Why they had decided to have the wedding in their father’s birthplace of Abilene, Kansas was totally beyond him. But Grandma Tracy had been insistent and, as his fiancée reminded him, the marriage itself was about them as a couple but the wedding day was to be a shared celebration. They could afford to be magnanimous about the when and where.

That being said, it had had to be planned right down to the very last detail to ensure that John was Earth-side, International Rescue was covered and all the people that they loved were able to attend. But of course, even the best laid plans were apt to go haywire in this family and in this profession. And right now, Scott was a groom without a bride.

“Seriously, John? Seriously? What made you think that sending her out on a quick recce with Gordon would be a good idea, today of all days?” The morning autumn sun was streaming through the windows and tiny dust diamonds glinted in the light as John straightened Scott’s tie and pinned on his buttonhole.

“They’ll be back, don’t panic. The call came in and I could see that it was an easy one. Thunderbird One should have got them there and back within two hours. Problem solved, people saved, wedding on! I expect they’ll be back at any moment.” John tried to placate his older brother, but he had to admit that, as best man, sending Scott’s fiancée on a mission seven hours before the wedding probably hadn’t been his smartest move.

At 3.30am, the satellites had alerted him to a massive storm brewing in Indonesia. It shouldn’t have been a problem, it was due to make landfall until it had basically blown itself out. However, the stream of boats taking part in the Clipper Round the World Yacht Race were right in its path as they crossed the Equator coming out of the fifth leg. The organisers had asked for International Rescue presence just in case there was a problem. John was ready to argue that the coastguard could cover it, when the bride to be had appeared behind him, unable to sleep. Of course, he’d argued with her, knowing that Scott would kill him when he found out, but that had never stopped her in the past. Why he had thought it would be any different on her own wedding day, he had no idea. As she’d suited up, he suggested that they wake Scott so that he could go too, but she’d argued that he needed his rest so that he didn’t sleep in and miss the ceremony. So she’d gone and poked Gordon awake with the promise of some water and he’d hastily changed. Within twenty minutes the two of them had gone.

“Let me try to reach them again,” John suggested. Turning the entire den of the family farm into a communication hub hadn’t been an easy task and was one that had happened over a number of weeks. Triangulating signals from the satellites of Thunderbird Four, John was able to get at least a basic coverage of what was going on around the world.

“This is Thunderbird K, are you receiving me, Thunderbird One?” He was met with static. “Thunderbird One, come in.” More static. He sighed. “I’m sure that they’re fine. The storm is probably just playing havoc with the comms.”

“Shit!” Scott kicked the desk as hard as he could, shifting the equipment and scuffing his polished leather shoe. “I’m gonna kill Gordon.”

“I’m pretty sure that Gordon didn’t take the lead on this one,” John put his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “Have you ever tried stopping her from doing something?”

“Then I’m going to kill you!” Scott angrily grabbed John by the lapels of his suit and drew him close.

“Now, boys, this isn’t really helping the situation, is it?” The aristocratic tones of Lady Penelope cut through the confrontation and Scott removed his hands from John’s suit and spun on his heels to look out the window. “I appear to have a hairdresser, a make-up artist and a pressed wedding dress on a hanger but no bride. So we’re going to have to call the minister and postpone the wedding. I can’t see any other way forward.”

John ran his hands through his auburn hair in exasperation as Scott gave the desk another kick. He looked at Lady Penelope and shrugged. 

“I knew something would go wrong, it always does!” Scott raised his voice, his frustration palpable.

A head popped around the door and Virgil took in the situation. “Grandma says that she’s ready to go if someone would give her a lift to the chapel. But I’m sensing that everything’s not as it should be…” He tailed off and stepped into the room. His tie was skewed and his hair was sticking up at the front. Lady Penelope immediately moved to his side and began to tidy him as he tried, in vain, to bat her away. “I take it they’re not back yet?” he asked, ducking his head from side to side to see around Lady Penelope.

“Does it fucking look like it, Virgil? Seriously, does it look like it?” Scott jammed his hands hard into his pockets in anger and resumed staring at the sky, trying hard to catch a glimpse of Thunderbird One on the horizon.

\-----oo00oo------

“Shit, you’re soaked!” Gordon gasped, laughing, as he threw her a towel. 

She grinned, “ You’re not exactly dry yourself! I can’t think why, between the mammoth waves and the erupting monsoon! Nothing’s ever easy, is it?”

“You did good out there,” Gordon said as he settled himself into the co-pilot seat and prepared to disengage variable self-stabilisation VTOL mode as the storm continued to buffet the outside of the Thunderbird One.

Winding the towel around her long dark hair, she harnessed herself into the pilot seat and checked all the readouts. All good. “Right, let’s get these yachtsmen safe to shore and then head home. How are we doing for time?” 

Gordon checked his watch. Then shook it a little and checked it again. He turned his head to look at her, looked back at the watch and then at her again.

“What?” She cocked her head slightly as she looked at him.

“Scott is going to fucking kill us!” He twisted his arm towards her so she could read the time and she blanched. 

“Well, that can’t be right. Let me check.” Her hands flew over the controls and some numbers flashed up in front of her. She paled even further. “Scott is going to fucking kill us.”

Gunning the engines, Thunderbird One kicked into life, making for landfall on the Phillipines.

“Contact John. He’ll know what to do,” she said as she fought the controls against the raging storm.

“Not likely. I suspect that Scott will already have killed him too.”

“Gordon…” Her voiced raised ever so slightly.

“OK, OK, I’m doing it.”

\-----oo00oo------

“…underbird One….. en ro…. ETA… ne hour. Are.. y… ceiving me?” The radio crackled, breaking the tension in the room and making everyone jump.

John scrambled for the radio at the same time that Scott launched himself across the desk and grabbed the mic.

“Gordon? That you?” Scott all but bellowed into the radio receiver. 

“…ott……one…ur….at…the …urch,” came the faint sound of Gordon’s voice over the static-filled line. 

“One hour? At the church? You’re going to meet us there?” Scott questioned, but the radio had gone dead. “Gordon? Gordon?”

Silence filled the room as they all looked at each other. Then all hell broke out.

“You heard the man: one hour, people!” John called out. He gave Scott a nervous grin, who returned it and the two men hugged in relief.

Virgil, his hair and tie tamed by Lady Penelope, turned and shouted for Alan who in turn called for Grandma Tracy. 

“TinTin! Parker!” Lady Penelope called. “I’m going to need all the help that I can get to get that girl sorted when she arrives! Fetch my bags. We’re leaving for the church.”

\-----oo00oo------

“There! Over there!” Gordon gesticulated wildly to a field a short distance from the chapel and she swung Thunderbird One deftly around and gently set her down on the dusty ground, shut the engines off and hit the switch to open the cargo hatch. 

“I can see Alan and Virgil on the church steps,” Gordon smiled as he released his flight harness. “And Lady P’s with them.” He looked over at the young woman sitting next to him. “You OK?”

“Yep. Think so,” she said nervously.

“You worried?” Gordon pulled her to her feet and brushed the damp hair away from her face.

“Nah, not really. I think that I stopped worrying somewhere over the Indian Ocean at Mach 15. At least we know T One’s top speed now!” She gave Gordon a squeeze and they both made their way out onto terra firma. Alan was waving madly and Virgil had disappeared, presumably to placate Scott. 

Jogging to the steps of the church, the pair began to unzip their flight suits as they went. Lady Penelope took one look at them and rolled her eyes. “Oh, heaven help me. I’m not even sure where to begin. Are you actually still wet?”

Gordon shrugged. “A bit, maybe.” He shook his head wildly and water droplets spun off in all directions.

“You!” Lady Penelope pointed at Gordon. “Go with Alan. Your suit is in the Bishop’s Office. Move!” He didn’t hesitate as he bounded up the steps, two at a time. “And brush your hair!” she called after him.

She regarded the dark haired girl at the bottom of the steps, took in her flushed cheeks, bright eyes and her damp, slightly curling hair. “And you,” Lady Penelope said. “TinTin’s waiting inside with your dress.” She held out her hand and the girl took it, smiling, albeit slightly sheepishly. 

“Is Scott mad at me?” she asked.

“No, not really,” Lady Penelope led her up the steps. “He was just terrified that you weren’t going to be here, that maybe you’d changed your mind and this was your way of avoiding telling him. Now let’s get you looking shipshape and Bristol fashion and get this wedding underway.”

\-----oo00oo------

Scott stood nervously at the front of the church, staring at his feet, his hands in his pockets. John stood next to him and nervously jangled the rings in the palm of his hand. The church was brightly illuminated with autumn light, the pinewood glowing warm and welcoming. Wild sweet William, poppies and ivy punctuated the end of every pew and shafts of colour slanted across the floor from the stained glass window.

Doors opening at the back of the church made both Scott and John swing round and they saw Alan, Virgil and Gordon making their way up the aisle to join them, talking in hushed tones. Taking their places alongside their brothers, Scott leaned over and spoke to Gordon, “Glad you could make it.” But there was no malice in his tone and the glint in his eye told Gordon that he was forgiven.

“Oh man, when this is over, I must tell you what we got Thunderbird One up to! She totally beat your previous record and was nudging Mach 20!” Gordon enthused, until he saw Scott’s frown. “Ok, maybe another time….” Gordon tailed off.

The door banged again, causing all five boys to turn. TinTin hurried up the aisle and took a seat next to Grandma Tracy and her father, Kyrano. Grandma Tracy turned to her and spoke in hushed tones, “What on earth is going on? There’s definitely something I’m not being told.” TinTin caught John and Alan’s eyes and smiled. “No, it’s all fine, I promise. I think it’s the bride’s prerogative to be late.” 

“Is she OK?” Scott addressed TinTin.

“You’ll find out shortly,” said TinTin, smiling mischievously at Scott. “Lady P is just doing the finishing touches.”

“Seriously, if this doesn’t happen soon, I’m going to have a Runaway Bride moment myself,” Scott muttered to John. “The suspense is killing me. I knew that this girl would probably be the death of me, but I was kind of thinking metaphorically, not literally.”

“Scott, this girl is perfect for you, trust me,” John answered, putting an arm on Scott’s shoulder. I have never seen anyone more perfect. Dad would have loved her.”

“He would, wouldn’t he?” Scott agreed. “He always wanted a daughter. I wish he was here.” Scott looked wistful for a moment.

“He is, in his own way, I’m sure of it,” John reassured him. 

The sound of heels on the church floor had all the boys turning around again. Lady Penelope sashayed up the aisle in an exquisitely embroidered pink dress and hat with Parker at her side. She gave Scott a broad smile before taking her seat.

Scott hopped imperceptibly from one foot to the other. “I am not doing this ever again,” he hissed to John, who smiled.

Although the couple had made many concessions to the way today had been planned, there was one thing that they had insisted on. They had firmly eschewed a dry and dusty church organ playing the music and they didn’t want the outdated Wedding March, no matter how much Grandma Tracy had tried to insist.

So when the calming opening chords of “Grow Old with Me” began on the perfectly-tuned piano, Scott knew that it was time. He heard the church door open one final time, and he heard everyone stand. But he couldn’t bring himself to turn around.

“Jeez,” he heard Virgil mutter and Gordon let out a very low whistle.

“Turn around,” said John to him. But he couldn’t. He felt frozen to the spot. He looked up at the light streaming through the coloured glass, the illuminated shape of a dove and a rainbow. “Turn around!” John whispered again, slightly louder this time.

And so Scott slowly and deliberately turned his head to the left, turning his shoulders and looking down the aisle at Colonel Casey, escorting her up the aisle.

She was dressed in white. Of course she was. Her hair, still damp, hung in soft curling tendrils around her face, dainty cornflowers and blue sage weaving in and out of the braid that ran around her head like a crown. She looked almost bare of makeup save for a slick of neutral lipstick. The flush in her cheeks was all natural, as was the sparkle in her green eyes. She wore the veil already back and away from her face and it streamed out behind her like a billowing lace wave. The delicate satin fabric of the dress wrapped around her frame, leaving her shoulders bare and dropping into a V at the back just below her shoulder blades before spreading out to a full skirt at the waist. A delicate design was embroidered all the way around the bottom of the dress and Scott had to squint to make out the figures there. Where he had expected woven flowers, there were tiny exquisite representations of all the Thunderbird crafts in a beautiful repeated pattern. And peeping out below the long hemline of the gown were her sneakers, tied with white ribbon bows. He met her eyes and smiled, raising his eyebrows and shaking his head ever so slightly. Trust her to put her own stamp on proceedings.

As they arrived at Scott’s shoulder, Colonel Casey paused to shake Scott’s hand before gently placing the hand of the bride into his. And then there was nothing else in the world except for her and him. Green eyes met blue as they stared at each other. Scott carefully put out his hand and touched her face, as if checking that she was real. He gently felt the lace fabric of the veil between his thumb and forefinger as he pushed it back away from her face further. She placed a hand over his and murmured, “It was your mother’s.” And tears sprung to his eyes as he felt the simultaneous absence of his parents and the presence of this amazing girl in front of him.

John coughed politely and Scott turned his head to acknowledge him. John nodded, indicating the minister standing on the front of the church, waiting to begin. Scott turned back to her and held out his hand. Placing her small hand into his larger one, the couple moved forward together.

“Who gives this woman to this man in marriage?” began the minister.

“I do,” Colonel Casey replied, saluting briefly before taking her seat.

A shaft of sunlight caught the stained glass rainbow and spread a spectrum of colour over the young couple as the minister continued, “Dear family and friends, we are gathered here today….”


End file.
